I am waiting for your text.

I texted you first (as is the case always) and I am now waiting for your reply.

I think you are busy. I think you are busy with that assignment that you’ve to finish for tomorrow’s economics class. Or you are stuck in the middle of traffic for two hours. Or you might have gone to the hospital to meet your sick relative.

You phone might be in silent mode. You might have gone to a movie or a concert. Or probably you’ve kept your mobile in some other room and enjoying loud music.

You didn’t reply maybe because your battery is down.

You didn’t check your mobile because you and your sister had a fight and now you are sitting in the corner of your couch sulking. Or you are trying a new dish with your mother in your kitchen and forgot about everything else.

You didn’t reply because you are in bed reading the book ‘Three Cups of Tea’ which I suggested. Or watching an Italian movie about a father and his son, which I once told you, was my favourite.

Maybe once you check your mobile, you’ll reply me back saying how busy you were. You’ll tell me how difficult that economics assignment was or how crazy the traffic was. Or how sick your uncle was.

You’ll tell me how great the movie was or how that concert that you attended sucked big time. Or you’ll send me a sorry for not seeing my text while you were listening to music.

Once you and your sister make it up, you’ll text me saying how adorable your sister is or how annoying she is at times. You’ll text me about the new dish that you made and how much your dad enjoyed that.

You’ll text me back once you finish that book and tell me how it made you turn pages and why it was so inspiring. Or you’ll text me back saying how your eyes were wet at the end of that movie when you watched the kid’s father being shot dead in the Nazi camp.

I hope you didn’t text me back only because of a valid reason which could be anything. I have no idea what it is.

You didn’t reply because you don’t want me to know that you like me and you want to pretend as if I don’t matter to you at all. You didn’t reply because you had expected me to ask you out for that art exhibition that you wanted to go very badly, but for which you didn’t have company.

You didn’t text because you are mad at me after you saw me flirting with that junior girl in the library. You didn’t reply because you hate the way I dance when I am drunk.

Or maybe you decided to ignore my texts just to let me realize how important you are for me, or to see how desperate I get. Or your friends have warned you that replying immediately for a text is a sign of weakness and you should let the guy crave for you.

You didn’t reply because you secretly enjoy not replying to my texts. You enjoy that uncomfortable look on my eyes when I see you next day in school and how pathetic I look when I try to initiate a conversation.

Have you read Dorothy Parker’s ‘A Telephone Call’? I feel like that girl. Oh wait. No, actually I feel worse. Far worse…

Should I send another text: ‘hello, you there?’ No, that would be too pushy. You’ll think I am desperate. Well I am, but I shouldn’t let you know that. Oh, who am I kidding, you know that anyway. But no, I won’t send one more text.

When you reply back, I am not going to continue that conversation. I will also wait for two three hours before I reply you. Oh stop, then what’s the difference between you and me. By the way, I can’t do that anyway.

I seriously think that you didn’t reply because you’re afraid of our relationship and you don’t like where it is going. Or you didn’t reply because you don’t like me anymore. And you didn’t reply because you think that, I think that you like me as much as I like you, which I’m afraid you don’t. Me flirting with any other girl doesn’t mean anything to you I guess.

From now on, I will try to be that guy I was when I first met you, because that was the guy you liked. I’ll hide how frantic I am and play cool like I used to. But I know I can’t.

You didn’t reply because you started disliking me from the moment I said that ‘There’s something about Mary’ was a stupid movie. Or you think I’m boring and not funny. Probably you are busy texting that cute and funny guy whom you met at your dance class. He will ask you out and you’ll marry him one day.

You didn’t reply because you don’t like my curly hair. You always had a crush on that guy with straightened hair in our literary club and you got his number from the students’ directory. Maybe you are trying to figure out how to talk to him.

Or maybe you didn’t reply simply because you don’t feel like it.

At last, I hear that much awaited message tone from my phone. It could be you or some stupid forward message from my cousin.

I wonder that if twenty years from now we’ll read this together from my diary, sitting close to each other with my jaw resting on your shoulders and we will have a good laugh at how immature I was.

Or two months from now, I’ll tear these pages into pieces because it is gonna remind me of you while I am trying to move on.